An hour later, they arrived back at the camp. Kara lowered Marcus gently to the ground, her expression serious as she inspected his injuries. "Obviously, the training ends here," she said firmly. "After all, you just proved that you're ready. We'll be heading back home now. Some of these wounds are bad—especially the one on your arm where the beast bit you—but with proper rest, you'll be ready for the exam."
Marcus nodded, still a little surprised at the sheer regenerative capacity of Transformers. Kara gave him a small, knowing smile. "The academy will send a helicopter to collect the beast you killed," she explained. "They'll also pick you up and take you back to the academy to get treated. Don't worry about the camp—I'll take care of packing everything up."
Marcus looked down at the Sableon's body, already thinking practically. The carcass wasn't just a trophy—its claws could be crafted into weapons, the pelt into protective gear or sold, and some bones and sinews could be used in various tools.
"Hey, Marcus," Kara began, her tone gentle but firm. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression serious yet warm. "I'm proud of you. You were a great student."
Marcus lifted his head, momentarily surprised by her words of recognition. A mix of astonishment and gratitude crossed his face, and he let a tender smile spread. "Thanks, master," he said, his voice carrying genuine and warm appreciation.
Moments later, the thrum of rotor blades echoed through the clearing as a sleek helicopter touched down, kicking up dust and leaves. Marcus, still catching his breath from the exertion, was carefully helped aboard. The chopper lifted smoothly, carrying him away from the forest and toward the Academy, the treetops shrinking beneath them.
That evening, Kara stepped out of the academy, the weight of the day's events still lingering as she finished typing the last lines of her report. She moved through the quiet corridors, the hum of the building fading behind her, and finally reached the underground parking. The space was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the concrete floor.
Suddenly, she stopped, her head tilting slightly as her eyes caught movement in the darkness. She turned sharply, her voice firm and cutting through the silence:
"I know you're there, Dark Ghost."
David stepped out from the shadows, a mock expression of disappointment on his face. "Never can catch you, you know ?," he said, his tone teasing. "You're too good".
Kara's eyes narrowed slightly, her tone calm but firm. "What do you want, David?"
David stepped a little closer, feigning offense, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "At least you could pretend you don't dislike me".
Kara let out a short, almost amused sigh. "I used to like you," she replied, her voice even, betraying nothing more.
David rubbed the back of his neck, a weary look crossing his features. "So… what do you think of the kid?" he asked, shifting the conversation with genuine interest.
Kara took a measured breath, her gaze steady. "He's determined," she began. "There's no denying that. He has instinct for combat, a raw intuition that's hard to teach. He's intelligent in battle—reads opponents, anticipates moves, adjusts strategy on the fly. He's also creative, finding solutions in the moment rather than following patterns.
"Now, his monstrous form… it's solid, but not the strongest I've seen. I've observed other monstrous forms with more raw potential, stronger traits, sharper natural abilities. But if Marcus can develop his monstrous traits further, refine them, and strengthen key aspects… combined with his determination, intelligence, and creativity, he could become very skilled. He's not there yet, but the foundation is there, and that's what makes him promising."
Kara fell silent for a moment, reflecting, before she continued. "Killing that Sableon was very impressive, It wasn't about brute force. Marcus realized he didn't have the raw strength to beat it down, and he had no weapon at hand either. What impressed me is that he had the intelligence to assess the situation, to understand that trying to overpower the beast was pointless. Instead, he devised a way to bring it down through technique—a risky chokehold that demanded absolute precision. It wasn't just clever; it showed determination and courage. He committed fully to a dangerous tactic, knowing that a single mistake could cost him his life. That mix of awareness, creativity, and sheer willpower is rare."
David tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. "So… you're saying he'll be better than him?"
Kara didn't answer. She held his gaze in silence, her expression unreadable, offering neither denial nor confirmation.
David said, "Ok, got it," and turned, his steps echoing down the hallway as he moved away from Kara, the distance between them growing as his silhouette shrank.
Kara watched him go for a few seconds, her gaze steady and calm, and then, with a clear and deliberate voice, she called out: —You know what, David? You also had a lot of potential… It's a shame you're that woman's dog. Her words hung in the air, firm and direct, leaving a heavy silence behind.
David didn't respond or look back; he simply, with a defiant gesture, raised his middle finger as he continued walking away, completely ignoring Kara's gaze and words.
Three days had passed since the incident. David sat on the sofa in the Grisos' house, flipping through channels with his brother. Tomorrow, he would have to head to the academy to continue preparations for the upcoming exam.
When he entered the house, his mother's eyes immediately fell on the bandages covering his arms and torso. She gasped, worry etching her face, and rushed to check him over. David took his time to calm her down, speaking slowly and reassuringly, as if replaying a memory in his mind—patiently soothing her fears, letting her hands linger on the gauze while insisting he was fine.
During these three days, he had spent his time helping with household chores, picking up his younger siblings from school, and quietly relaxing in the evenings, watching the movies of this world that played on the living room screen. He was enjoying these moments of relaxation with his family, reinforcing his bonds—but he hadn't made any progress with Alice.
Then a thought hit him, sharp and sudden. Without overthinking it, he made his way to Alice's room, hesitating only for a moment before knocking lightly. When she opened the door, he offered, trying to sound casual, "Hey… want to come with me to the supermarket? Thought it might be a good way to get out for a bit."
Alice stared at him for a moment, assessing him silently, before nodding. "Sure," she said finally. "I'll be ready in ten minutes.
Exactly ten minutes later, Alice stepped out of the house, and they climbed onto the motorcycle. The engine roared to life as they sped toward the supermarket, wind whipping past them.
As they navigated the streets, Marcus's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of movement in the rearview mirror: a car trailing them, keeping pace with unsettling precision. He frowned, instincts on alert, noting the vehicle but saying nothing yet, calculating whether it was coincidence—or something more deliberate.
Marcus continued riding straight, keeping a steady pace as they made their way back toward the house. Once they arrived, he gently slowed the bike.
"Hey, Alice, something really important came up," he said kindly. "We'll have to postpone our plan for another day. I'm really sorry about that."
Alice nodded in understanding. Marcus gave a small smile and immediately revved the bike, riding off, leaving her there as he drove away.
She watched the motorcycle disappear, a small approving smile crossing her face. "So he noticed we were being followed too", she thought, slightly impressed by his awareness.